Matty & Phooka: Lawn Care
by Red Lioness
Summary: A little Mooka drabble, a sidestory if you will from the Out for an AiringA Matter of Perspective storyline.


* * *

"Okay, girls! Hang on just a minute. I gotta grab my camera, and then we'll head out for drinks!" Theresa said, running up the steps into her house.

"Okay, we're just going to sneak into the air conditioning," said a woman with her blonde hair cropped short.

Three women in their forties entered the suburban house. Theresa held up one finger in a 'sshhh' motion, then delved deeper into the home.

"Why do we have to be quiet, Carlie?" A brunette asked. "I thought Theresa's boyfriend had his own apartment."

"He does, Tansy. But Theresa's son still lives at home."

Tansy snorted.

"No chance of a girlfriend for him, huh?"

There was an awkward pause.

"Uh . . . . Theresa's son is gay," Said the third woman.

"Not just gay . . . . He's _really_ gay, Libby," Carlie said, snickering. "I feel sorry for Theresa; she said his boyfriend just moved in."

"Oh. Well. Uh, that's . . . um, nice," Tansy said.

"Oh yeah, I bet it's just heaven living with a pair of faggots," Carlie murmured.

"Carlie!" Libby hissed. "Theresa loves her son! Matty is very nice. And I'm sure his boyfriend . . . . oh."

Libby trailed off.

As the women talked, they made their way into the living room. Libby was the first to spot the man reclining on the couch.

She had met Matty before; she knew this wasn't him. Matty wasn't six foot of perfectly sculpted muscle topped with a mane of blue black hair that probably blew in the wind when he walked. Matty's face wasn't so perfectly handsome it looked as if it had been carved from marble. And Matty's wasn't in the habit of lying half-nude across the couch as if he expected someone to paint him in oils.

"Is - is that her son?" Tansy asked breathlessly.

Carlie and Libby shook their heads furiously.

"Must be the boyfriend," Libby murmured.

There was a period of quiet filled with desperate thoughts of lust.

"Well . . . . . I think that'd be worth having a gay son," Carlie giggled quietly. "Did she say what his name was?"

"Something weird and European," Libby whispered. "Starts with an 'F', I think."

"Fabio," Tansy breathed.

The three women giggled quietly.

"Okay! I found it!" Theresa said, coming into the living room. Heedless of the way her friends were struck speechless by the vision of male beauty on display, she poked Phooka on the temple.

"Hey, you, where's Matty?"

The kelpie snorted sharply, his green eyes popping open to glare at his lover's mother. With a deep sigh, he rolled over to face the back of the couch. Theresa poked him in the shoulder.

"Where's my son?"

"He went for a job interview," Phooka groaned. "Leave me be; you know I work nights."

"Then why don't you sleep upstairs?" Theresa asked. "You always come down to the couch in the morning when Matty gets up."

"I don't like sleeping in that bed without Matty," Phooka sighed.

"Why not?"

"Because; it smells of him."

"And . . . ?"

Phooka heaved a sigh, rolling over and sitting up, scratching his head sleepily.

"Because as I sleep, I dream of him. If I can smell Matty when I wake up, I expect him to be there. Reaching for him and finding him gone is . . . . . . painful. So I come down to sleep on the couch."

"Aaaaawwwwwwwww!" The four women squealed in unison.

Phooka looked around at the females gathered in the living room, a thoroughly embarrassed look on his face. With a groan, the kelpie flopped back down on the couch and threw a pillow over his head.

Theresa poked him in the shoulder again.

"Well since Matty's out doing something productive, how about you mow the yard today?" She asked.

Green eyes peered out from under the pillow.

" . . . . . .Mow the lawn?" Phooka echoed. "Me? How?"

"With a lawn mower?" Theresa suggested. "Haven't you ever cut grass before?"

"No," he seemed almost offended by the implication.

"You've lived in cities your whole life, haven't you, Mr . . . . ?" Carlie cut in.

"Phooka," Theresa provided. "Phooka . . . . what is your last name?"

"Aughisky," Phooka said. "And yes; I've lived in cities my whole life. That's why I don't know how to cut grass."

"I'll show you real quick before we go. Go get some clothes on," Theresa ordered.

"I'm trying to sleep!"

"It's five in the evening; you've slept plenty. Go get dressed!"

Phooka glared at the blonde woman. Glared, but did nothing. He couldn't do anything; one of the first rules Matty had laid down was that the water elf had to obey his mother as well as himself. Grumbling, Phooka heaved himself up off of the couch and stomped upstairs.

* * *

"This is the throttle, this turns on the blades, the grass clippings shoot out this side, be sure to work from the outside in," Theresa instructed.

Phooka gave her a sidelong look, shifting in his unfamiliar clothes. They belonged to Matty; what were a loose pair of board shorts on the blonde were skin-tight on Phooka and a beat up Gators jersey that hung off of Matty fitted the kelpie nicely. The women watching the impromptu lesson seemed delighted with the close cut of Phooka's clothes.

"And . . . that's all?" The water elf asked.

"That's it. It's not a big yard, so it shouldn't take you too long," Theresa said, gesturing to the small green patch in front of her home. "The back yard's kind of patchy but just make it look as nice as you can."

"I . . . suppose I could do that," Phooka said grudgingly.

"Thanks, Phooka!" Theresa cried, heading for a car parked on the curb.

The rest of the women trailed after her, all waving goodbyes and cutesy calls to Phooka. He grunted and waved at them, starting the loud and unfamiliar lawn mower.

After a few false starts, he managed to get a rhythm down and circled 'round the yard again and again until he snipped away the last of the long grass. Feeling a weird sense of accomplishment, Phooka crossed the driveway and cut the tiny of strip between the garage and the fence. The kelpie paused and looked over his newly clipped yard.

Well, that hadn't been so difficult.

Perhaps he could make the backyard look very good. Then Matty would be proud of him! When Matty was proud of him, he gave the water fairy this - this look, this look of absolute warmth and happiness.

Phooka would do any amount of yard work for that look.

Humming an ancient hunting song under his breath, the kelpie dragged the old mowing machine into the backyard and looked around.

The grass wasn't much of a problem back here; it barely grew. It was a pathetic excuse for a yard, really, mostly clay and sand, with a few hardy trees fighting their way out of the ground.

Hmm, to make this a nice yard . . . . . . what it really needed was a _pool_.

Phooka's green eyes brightened.

Yes! A pool! A deep, natural pool with a waterfall at one end; the clay in the soil would seal the water, while the sand would provide a nice surface for lounging on.

Phooka left the lawn mower sitting by the gate to the back yard and paced around the wasted space, feeling down through the soil with his elfin senses. There were stones down there as well, nice flat stones that would make a great patio.

A patio!

Yes! And Phooka could cook up a spell to create rapids, seal off a small section of the pool, add hot water and 'poof!' instant Jacuzzi!

Well, Theresa _had_ said to make the back yard as nice as possible. Phooka would do just that!

* * *

When Matthias returned home several hours later, it entirely escaped his noticed that the front yard had been cut. He did notice that Phooka wasn't on the couch, however. That struck him as odd; the kelpie never went hunting before dark and the sun was just now setting. Frowning, the blonde youth climbed the stairs to his bedroom and checked his bed. Still no Phooka.

That was very weird, Matty decided. He wondered what to do next, tilting his head back and watching the reflections of the setting sun off of water dance on his ceiling.

Wait a minute.

**What** water was the sun reflecting off of?

Matty rushed to the window and stuck his head out.

The blonde felt his jaw drop.

An enormous pool took up the majority of what had been the back yard. A waterfall tumbled over a pile of large stones at one end, spilling into a crystal clear natural pool that was edged with gray slate.

A vision of male sexiness surfaced from the pool, long black hair pulled straight by the weight of the water. Phooka stood in the shallow end, the water lapping at his waist. Judging by the colors that shimmered under the surface, the kelpie wasn't wearing any swimming trunks.

Phooka wiped water from his eyes, noticed Matty hanging out of the window and laughed.

"_Annsachd!_" Phooka cried, waving. "Look what I did!"

For a moment, Matthias couldn't do anything. Then he pulled his head back in and ran down to the back door. There was a sliding door off of the dining room, but since there wasn't anything in the back yard, it was largely ignored. Matty yanked back the blinds and threw open the door, gawking outright at the huge patio replete with a stone barbeque and a Jacuzzi. What little space was left had been paved over with flat stones of the same sort that made up the patio.

The young blonde held out his hands to the new additions to the property, as if words failed him.

"W-what is all this?" He managed after a few moments.

Phooka waded to the edge of the patio, grinning widely.

"You don't like it, _annsachd_? It is the sort of backyard you deserve! Now you can swim, soak in the hot tub," Phooka gestured to said item. "Or cook delicious meals. Don't you like it?"

"Of course I _**like**_ it!" Matty assured his pet fairy. "I love it! But what are we going to tell my mom?"

"Tell her one of those home improvement shows came by," Phooka said. "Take off your clothes and swim with me."

"If a home improvement show was here, there'd be cameras and TV personalities and stuff," Matty protested, starting to grin despite himself.

"We can say they changed their minds when they found out we were gay," Phooka offered.

"Oh yeah, 'cause they _never _show gay couples on HGTV," Matty said, rolling his eyes. He laughed ruefully. "Well, I did have exciting news about being a new chef at the Man Eater Café, but that kind of pales in comparison to this."

"The Man Eater Café? Do they really serve man?" Phooka said, suddenly interested.

"No, they serve the meat of dangerous animals," Matty corrected, starting to unbutton his shirt. "I didn't think I had it; my resume is . . . . . _bad_, but the head chef's this crazy Cajun guy. He threw a live cottonmouth onto the prep table; everybody freaked but me. After all the shit I've seen, a poisonous snake is no biggie; I just grabbed a cleaver and chopped its head off. The head chef hired me on the spot."

Matthias wandered around the new patio, inspecting the grill and the patio.

"Of course he hired you, Matthias; you're wonderful!" Phooka declared, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the patio.

Matty blushed.

"What do you mean; this is the sort of backyard I deserve?" the blonde asked, looking over at his lover.

"Just what I said," Phooka returned. "You deserve a nice place and nice things. You never ask for them, but you deserve them just the same."

The elf straightened, sighing.

"When you first Bound me, I thought that was what you had in mind; a fairy slave to grant your every whim. But you never ask for material things, _annsachd_, you only wanted me." Phooka pause for a moment to reflect on that fact. "I find that more flattering than you can ever know."

"Oh, Phooka," Matty murmured.

He left off his inspection of the new patio to come to the edge of the pool and bend down to give Phooka a long, sweet kiss. The kelpie hummed with pleasure at the affectionate contact and then grabbed Matty by the shoulders and toppled backwards into the water, dragging his master with him.

A moment later, Matthias surfaced, spluttering. His clothes clung to his body in a sodden mess, shedding water from every seam and pocket.

"Phooka!" He wailed. "My clothes are _soaked_!"

"I guess you'll have to take them off then," Phooka purred, just surfacing enough to speak.

His hair spread out around him in the water like a cloud of ink. The look in his emerald eyes was completely pornographic.

Matty could do little more than laugh.

"Well, I guess you deserve a reward after all your hard work," The blonde conceded.

The two men moved against each other in the water.

* * *

Theresa Conway grumbled to herself as she stomped up to the front door to her house. What a waste of alcohol tonight had been.

Carlie's ex-husband had shown up at the same club they had frequented and ended up having a screaming match in the middle of the bar. The management had thrown them all out and the rest of the girls didn't feel like partying after that.

Theresa's boyfriend Jaime was still out of town, so she was back home again.

'At least Phooka mowed the lawn,' she thought, observing the neatly clipped grass.

Then she observed the lawnmower still sitting by the gate to the backyard and said a few choice words. The blonde woman left the porch and stomped towards the abandoned machinery, grabbing it by the handle and storming through the gate, intent on putting the mower in the shed.

The sight that greeted her eyes stopped her in her tracks.

She was so astonished by the sight of the magazine-worthy backyard it actually took her a minute to realize Matty and Phooka were in the pool. It took her another minute to attribute their rhythmic movement and heavy breathing to sexual activity.

Theresa blushed bright red.

She was all set to jump back through the gate – she wasn't enough of a pervert to want to watch her own son do the nasty – when four slim, blue skinned tentacles erupted from the water around Phooka.

Theresa drew in a breath to scream, but Matty cut her off.

"_Ah_ - _hah_ - A new pool, _ughn_ patio, _mm-mmm_, AND tentacles? It must be my birthday."

The thin tubes of muscle were coiling around Matty's limbs slowly. Theresa was certain the youth should be freaking out, but Matthias merely bit his lip and smiled.

"Happy birthday, Mr. President . . . ." Phooka whispered breathily. The water elf's hips never stopped moving.

It was at this point that Theresa Conway fled back to the front porch, her mind whirling at what she'd seen.

* * *

It occurs to me I've never said what _annsachd_ means.

It's Irish Gaelic for 'beloved'.


End file.
